


As Long As I've Got My Suit & (Bow)Tie

by 221B_Baker_Abbey



Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015), Skyfall (2012) - Fandom
Genre: Eggsy is a flirtatious little shit, Gen, Harry Hart is the epitome of stiff upper-lipped Britishness, James and Q thought they were bad about feelings, M/M, Poor Merlin, until they met Hartwin
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-18
Updated: 2015-04-18
Packaged: 2018-03-23 12:42:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3769009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/221B_Baker_Abbey/pseuds/221B_Baker_Abbey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>James is due out on mission in a week's time, and without his usual tailor. Personally, Q's of the opinion that the poor man just couldn't keep up with the influx of suit orders from the Double-Ohs. </p><p>Enter Kingsman, a small little tailor's shop on Savile Row with a secret of their own...</p>
            </blockquote>





	As Long As I've Got My Suit & (Bow)Tie

**Author's Note:**

> Because the world needs more Skyfall/Kingsman crossovers! 
> 
> This is my first contribution to either fandom (and fandom in general) in a really long time. Critique would be much appreciated.

It happens completely by accident. James’ usual Savile Row tailor is unavailable, on paternity leave—Q thinks it’s because the poor tailor is run ragged with the number of suits James and the rest of the Double-Ohs require of the shop on an alarmingly regular basis, never mind that they always pay well—and with James due out again in a week, they’re left with little choice but to seek out an alternate proprietor. He and James are walking out of the fifth shop they’ve visited that day, Q slowly losing patience with his agent, when he sees it.

 _Kingsman_ , the shop window proclaims in neat gold lettering. The storefront is understated elegance, befitting of a Savile Row business; in the display Q can make out three distinct suit jackets, but one in particular catches his eye. Black, with quilted lapels and cuffs in a dark grey. White dress shirt underneath, of course, and the bowtie pulls the look together quite nicely. His agent would look rather handsome in it, and Q can’t help the sharp intake of breath as the image forms unbidden. James, predictably, notices.

“See something you like, Q?”

“Come along, James,” his quartermaster murmurs absently, walking with renewed purpose. Interest piqued, he follows the boffin into the next shop, taking in the soft greens and rich dark mahogany wood of the establishment. Q approaches a tailor and the two are conversing in hushed tones, eyes flickering to his body every now and then. Trusting Q with the responsibility of his new suit, James explores the shop, hands feeling the various fabrics and marveling at their quality. So distracted is he that he fails to notice the person standing just to his left until he hears a prim, “Can I help you, sir?”

James turns and just manages not to stare. Before him is a young man ‘younger than Q, his mind helpfully supplies’ dressed in simple black slacks and a matching waistcoat. The sleeves of his pale blue dress shirt are rolled just below his elbows, exposing the lean muscle of his arms. Everything he is wearing is tailored to perfection, from the way the slacks perfectly outline his legs (and arse, not that James noticed, not at all) to the cinch of his waistcoat. The overall effect is just lovely—the young man cuts a trim figure, and damned if James wasn’t at least intrigued.

“Thank you, but my… valet ,” James winces at the word, hopes to whatever deity exists that Q did not hear, "is currently sorting everything out with another tailor, Mr…” The young man smiles, extends a hand as he says,

“You can call me Gareth, sir. You must be new to the shop, I don’t believe I’ve seen you before.” James accepts the handshake, surprised at the strength behind it. The young man—Gareth, is not to be underestimated, then.

“Ah, yes. My usual tailor is currently unavailable, and I’m afraid a new suit is absolutely necessary before my next business trip.”

“I’ll have to thank your usual tailor then,” Gareth makes a show of looking James up and down before meeting his gaze, hazel eyes alight with mirth. “For giving us your patronage, of course.”

James is saved from having to reply further when he hears Q calling him. He leaves with a hasty goodbye, forcing himself not to run to his quartermaster. He can feel Gareth’s eyes following his every movement, and the agent is unnerved by how quickly Gareth was able to rattle him. Nevertheless, he manages an indulgent smile for Q, lightly brushing a hand on the small of his back before giving the tailor his full attention.

The tailor—whom James finds out is named Daniel—lays out a few sample fabric swatches, sorting them as James and Q argue amicably over which to keep and which to discard. They finally settle on two different suits: one a cream-coloured linen number paired with a lightweight cotton dress shirt (in blue gingham print, much to Daniel and James’ horror) and a narrow silk tie; the other, a smoking jacket made from crushed blue velvet, black trousers, and a velvet bowtie to complete the look.

“Excellent choices, gentlemen. Now, Mr. Bond, if you would allow me to get your measurements—”

“I can do that, Daniel,” _and when the bloody hell had Gareth joined their little group?_ James wonders, frowning as Q offers a small nod in greeting. "You’ve been on your feet all day, take a break, yeah?”

“That really isn’t necessary,” Q begins to say as Daniel sputters, “Mr. Gareth—“

“I’m afraid it is, begging your pardon, sir.” Gareth interjects smoothly with a deferential nod to Q. "We here at Kingsman pride ourselves on quality, and while I’m sure your normal tailor’s measurements are accurate, it would give us peace of mind to perform our own.” To Daniel, Gareth asks, “Is Fitting Room 1 available?”

Daniel’s face is incredulous even as he answers a negative. “Fitting Room 2, however—"

“Nonsense, Daniel.” Gareth’s grin is delightfully wicked as he throws James a wink, and it takes every ounce of self-control James has not to blush as he continues, “One does not pop one’s cherry in Fitting Room 2.”

The door to Fitting Room 1 suddenly opens, and out steps an older gentleman only a few years James’ senior, by his reckoning. James observes him: tensed shoulders, mouth drawn in so thin a line the colour of his lips are near indiscernible. His suit also impeccably tailored, and James can just make out the outline of a shoulder holster—odd, given that James knew the name of every tailor that was willing to cooperate with a Double-Oh’s specifications and Kingsman was most certainly not on that list.

“Pardon my interruption, gentlemen, but I couldn’t help but overhear. My apprentice,” and James does not miss how the older man’s right hand twitches as he looks at young Mr. Gareth, “is quite correct. We will be needing your measurements, and conveniently enough Fitting Room One has just opened. Daniel will be more than happy to assist you.”

“Of course, Mr. Hart.” James allows Daniel to usher him and Q into the fitting room, but not before he catches Gareth’s eye once more. The boy’s lips quirk upward before he schools his features, turning to walk away with Hart.

* * *

Harry— _Arthur_ , Eggsy's mind automatically corrects, _he is Arthur now_ —does not say another word until they reach the War Room.

"Gareth now, is it?" Eggsy feels his cheeks pink, but his voice does not waver.

"Well I couldn’t exactly call myself ‘Eggsy’ could I? Risk the secret agent remembering me."

"What a shame, then, that for all your efforts you still made an impression." Harry's tone is cool, and it is only because he knows his mentor so well that Eggsy is even able to pick up the bite behind it.

Anger suddenly fills him as he snaps back, "Good, because the feeling's mutual!" Eggsy storms out of the room, nearly bowling Merlin over in his haste.

"Ah, Galahad—"

"Not now Merlin, sorry—“ Merlin waits until the young man is out of earshot before rounding on Harry. 

"Again, Arthur?" 

"Not now, Merlin, please." 

“Now is as good a time as any. That’s the third time this week Eggsy’s tried to run me over after a conversation with you, and it’s only Monday.” 

“I’m well-aware, believe me.” Harry’s mouth is pursed, brows knitted in anger or concern, Merlin can’t decide. Taking pity on his oldest friend, he tries a different tactic.

“It’s been this way ever since––“ 

“Yet another fact I’m aware of, Merlin.” Harry leans back against his chair and sighs heavily. “I don’t understand; I’ve apologised to him, several times. And he knows I’m very proud to have him as Galahad.” 

“Harry, you were the boy’s mentor. He watched you die, only to find out that you had somehow survived, months after having already grieved for you.” 

“And you know why we waited so long before revealing my resurrection, _what_ is your point?”   

“Try and see it from Eggsy’s point of view. Maybe then you'll understand." Merlin leaves Harry to his thoughts, plan already forming. He's had quite enough of this pining nonsense, and since neither party is willing to make a move, well. 

Kingsman's resident Sorcerer is a man of various talents.  

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> And that's chapter one!


End file.
